


Categorization

by SleepsWithCoyotes



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-23 12:10:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6116039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepsWithCoyotes/pseuds/SleepsWithCoyotes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Crowley calls 'em like he sees 'em.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Categorization

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cayra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cayra/gifts).



> Holiday cardfic. Cayra requested: _An angel and a demon walk onto a beach._

"Lust."

Aziraphale sighed, frowning repressively over the top of his book. "Crowley."

"Lust, lust...also lust."

_"Crowley."_

"Yes, angel?"

" _Must_ you people-watch?"

Crowley looked surprised. "Well, what else is there to do at the beach?"

Nearly a hundred different suggestions sprang instantly to mind, but nearly all of them sounded like a terrible idea on further reflection. The last time he'd allowed Crowley to sunbathe in peace, the sudden uptick in adulterous thoughts had nearly upset the spiritual balance of the entire coast; the time before that, he'd had to wait for the sun to go down before he could pry Crowley away from his basking. At least he'd brought an umbrella this time, as well as a decent book. He never would understand Crowley's fascination with beaches.

"Lust again," Crowley murmured through a grin, nudging Aziraphale with an elbow and nodding at a middle-aged man watching a much younger blonde woman...er... _jiggle_ by.

Perhaps he understood Crowley's fascination with beaches just fine.

"Really, my dear," Aziraphale scolded. "I don't believe for an instant that lust is the only thing on people's minds." He was looking at a young family as he said it, the two children engaged in building an elaborate sand castle, their parents laying out a picnic not far away.

"No, you're right there," Crowley surprised him by admitting, nodding at a woman who was sitting alone and also watching the unquestionably-gifted blonde. "That one's envy. _And_ lust."

Exasperated, Aziraphale shook his head and buried his face in his book again, determined to ignore Crowley until he got over his contrary mood. By unspoken agreement, they usually left shop talk back at the office, as it were; their outings together were _sacr--tab_ \--well, they were _special_. If Crowley was insisting on pointing out every Sin he saw, something clearly had him nettled, only Aziraphale knew better than to try to drag it out of him. When Crowley was ready--

"Lusssst," Crowley hissed, only this time he sounded decidedly unfriendly rather than amused. Aziraphale looked up with a start, only to find Crowley leaning insistently into him, and--oh. Well. Indeed.

Aziraphale opened his eyes slowly as Crowley drew back, forked tongue feathering a ticklish last lick over his still-parted lips. The yellow eyes behind Crowley's sunglasses were still glittering with aggression, but now the demon looked more smug than not. "Not to mention envy," Crowley murmured as he leaned back in for a kiss so gentle it made him shudder. "And avarisssce."

"You shouldn't tease them," Aziraphale made himself say, though he didn't like to think of the eyes that had to be devouring Crowley even now. "It's not like they can help themselves. You're--"

" _Not_ sharing," Crowley growled, which was confusing, unless--

" _Really_ , Crowley," he protested with a blush; as if he'd be the object of anyone's lust. Well. Except for Crowley's, he supposed, but that wasn't born of the physical. Much. He was fairly sure.

"Really, angel," Crowley promised, unexpectedly grave until he cracked a wicked smile. "Want to know whose?"

_"Crowley!"_

"Pride," Crowley said with a grin, only that wasn't an accusation or a change of subject; Crowley's eyes had cut to the blonde in the bathing costume that was surely a size too small, walking their way with entirely too much swing to her hips and looking-- _goodness_ \--right at him.

"You must be joking," Aziraphale all but pleaded, feeling inexplicably like a rabbit who has only just noticed the shadow overhead is a hawk, not a cloud.

"I'll protect you," Crowley teased and kissed him again until the woman had flounced safely past.

Crowley settled down after that, and Aziraphale had just gone back to his book when Crowley's head jerked suddenly up, staring off to the right with a puzzled frown. "What?" Aziraphale asked when it was clear Crowley wasn't going to volunteer whatever he'd noticed.

"Er," Crowley said, arching a brow and tilting his head in confusion. "That's, uh...gluttony, actually. I'm not sure I want to know why."

Groaning, Aziraphale tried to hide behind his book again and resolved to insist on a private beach next time.


End file.
